A Relaxing Time
by Stuffy the Author
Summary: Summary: Harry needs to relax, so he goes and gets a massage. HPDM Oneshot. Lots of fluff. Please review!


**A Relaxing Time**

**By Stuffy the Author**

Summary: Harry needs to relax, so he goes and gets a massage. HPDM Oneshot. Lots of fluff. Please review!

Author's Note: This is my second fluff fanfiction. The first one garnered lots of hits, but no reviews. I would love for some of you to review and criticize/critique my work. I would really like to improve my writing.

Harry sighed as looked in the mirror. "I really need to relax," he muttered, staring at the pale and haggard face looking back at him. His famed green eyes were slightly bloodshot, and he was looking slightly malnourished. Turning from the mirror, he rubbed his face with his hands. "I'll ask Hermione on a good way to relax this evening."

Later that evening, Harry was seated at Ron and Hermione's table, enjoying dinner. He had dinner at their house about 5 times a week since he broke up with Ginny when he found out he was gay. She just couldn't accept that he was gay, and kept trying to get in bed with him to prove that he was straight. It ended with her storming out of the flat they kept together, angry tears streaming down her face while Harry shut the door behind her. So now he was keeping company with Ron and Hermione, who seemed to accept who he was.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry burst out in the middle of the quiet dinner, "Do you know of a good way to relax?" Hermione smiled brightly.

"Yes, I do! Go get a massage. They're brilliant. Especially the ones here." She conjured a pamphlet from the air and handed it to Harry. On the cover it showed a witch lying on her stomach, half covered in a blanket, while a masseuse gave her a massage, and a pair of magical hands helped.

"Thanks Hermione. Mind if I use an owl for a sec?" asked Harry.

"Go right ahead," said Hermione. Harry got up, went over to an owl, wrote down his order, and sent it out with the owl. 20 minutes later, the owl was back, with a confirmation message to be there at 1:30 pm the next day. Harry smiled and crumpled up the note.

The next day at 1:30 found Harry waiting nervously in a small room that was filled with the sounds of nature and soothing scents. He sat in a cushioned chair, trying to fit the loose bathroom tighter around him. He had to admit, though, that the atmosphere was relaxing. He could almost feel the color returning to his face.

At 1:45 sharp, the door into the room opened. Harry leapt to his feet.

"Sorry about the wait, sir," began a voice, "But your assigned masseuse did not show up today, so I will be taking over….." The voice trailed off as he looked upon his charge.

"Oh, bloody fucking no," snarled Harry, crossing his arms as he stood in front of Draco Malfoy, bathrobe drooping to expose his chest. Malfoy sneered.

"Just great. Oh well, a job's a job. Take off the robe and lie on the table stomach down with the blanket covering the lower half of you," said Malfoy, business like, setting down a towel and some oils and lotions.

"Wait just a moment!" Harry said, outraged, "I demand another masseuse! Anyone else! Just not you!" Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, but we're short staffed today. I'm the only one available. So unless you want to leave with no massage and no gold, I suggest you accept the facts and get up on the damn table." Malfoy said coldly, eyeing Harry with distaste. Harry groaned and stared pointedly at Malfoy. "What, you want me to turn around? Come on, Potter, we're both men. Well, whatever," said Malfoy, turning around so that Harry could take the robe off and lie down on the table in privacy.

"Alright," came Harry's voice after a minute, slightly muffled from the table cushions. Draco turned around and saw Harry's back exposed, gleaming in the light cast from above him.

Grabbing a bottle of oil, Draco squirted a little in his hands. Taking a breath, he brought his hands down on Harry's back, moving them and digging them deep into the flesh. Harry sighed in pleasure and relief. It was like Malfoy was making the stress and the pain just melt away. Draco dug his hands in a little harder, listening to the soft sighs and moans and mewls he was getting out of Harry, who seemed to be oblivious of the fact. Moving farther down Harry's back, Draco lightened up on the massage, until it was just light fingertips circling flesh. Harry was panting slightly, his eyes shut tightly. Draco knew he was hard, but why? Why for Harry Potter, the Goddamn Boy Who Just Had To Fucking Live. The damn sexy man who was lying before him, moaning at Draco's touch. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Pushing the cloth that covered Harry's lower body back, Draco lightly skimmed his fingers over Harry's butt, rubbing in oil in the process. Harry's head lifted off the table slightly, the green eyes open to slits.

"Wha-?" he mumbled incoherently, slightly looking back at Draco. Draco just smirked.

"Like it, Potter?" he whispered, dragging his nails across Harry's firm buttocks. Harry just moaned in response. Draco gave a smug smile, then lowered his face to Harry's lower back, pressing his cheek against the hollow in the curve of it. Slowly, Draco moved upwards, kissing and licking and nipping at Harry's flesh until he reached Harry's neck.

Harry gave the most erotic moan when Draco latched on to it. "You know what, Potter?" whispered Draco in Harry's ear, tickling it, "You're just too damn sexy for me to just give you your massage and watch you walk out of this room." Draco could feel himself, hard and straining at the confines of his pants. "I think you want this just as much as I do." Harry gasped out a strangled 'yes' as Draco licked the curve of his ear. "Turn onto your back," whispered Draco, and Harry hastily complied, just in time to watch as Draco slowly and carefully took off his shirt, then his pants, his shoes and socks, but left his boxers on.

Lying on top of Harry, Draco captured his lips in a ferocious and demanding kiss, coming away leaving Harry gasping for air and for more. Pinning Harry's arms to his side with his hands, Draco slowly moved down the front of Harry, stopping at the nipple briefly to suck and bite at each one until they were hard and aching. Harry was crying out and writhing under Draco's ministrations. No one had ever made him feel this way before, no one.

Draco licked Harry's navel, dipping his tongue inside it, relishing in every whimper, cry, or mewl that came from Harry. When he got to Harry's hard and aching cock, he just licked the head once, then came back up for another searing kiss, cutting off Harry's strangled cries. This kiss was even more demanding than the first, the two tongues battling for control in each mouth. Draco licked the top of Harry's mouth, eliciting a gasp from the dark haired man, and Harry gave in. Draco broke off the kiss and bucked his hips into Harry's, moaning at the delicious feeling of the friction between their cocks, his still encased in a cloth prison that was quickly becoming too confining. Stopping for a moment, he ripped off his boxers, then came back to Harry, capturing his lips in another kiss.

When Draco broke that kiss, he began sucking on Harry's neck again and grasped Harry's cock in his hand. Harry cried out as Draco slowly began pumping him. "Turn over," whispered Draco into Harry's ear, "And get on all fours." Harry complied, sort of knowing what was coming next.

Draco grabbed one of the bottles of oil and poured it all over his fingers. He spread some around Harry's tight hole, then pushed in a slick digit. Harry threw his head back and moaned loudly as Draco inserted a second digit. Draco began scissoring his fingers, stretching Harry, getting him ready. After a few moments, he stuck a third finger in. This got a cry of pain and pleasure out of Harry, and Draco smirked, withdrawing his fingers.

Harry was panting so hard now, wanting what was about to come. "Damn it, fuck me Draco," he screamed into the room as Draco took his own sweet time getting his cock in the right position. Finally, he pushed in to Harry, gasping at tight it was, fisting Harry all the while. Draco stopped moving once the head was in, and Harry moaned in frustration. "Hurry up, damn it, and fuck me already!" he gasped out. Draco smirked.

"Alright," he said, and slammed the rest of his cock into Harry. Harry screamed as a wave of pleasure and pain crashed onto his nervous system. Draco gave Harry a moment to adjust before he began moving back out, then crashing back in again. The first few strokes were mostly pain for Harry, but after a while, the pain receded into nothing but burning pleasure.

Draco couldn't believe. He was fucking Harry Potter, his worst enemy. Caught in the heat of the moment, he looked so amazing, his head thrown back, hair messier than normal. Draco was moaning and panting as he thrust in and out of Harry's tight hole, head thrown back in ecstasy. He too screwed his eyes shut, feeling that he was getting close to the edge. He began fisting Harry faster and faster, and their moans and screams rose in volume as they both climbed towards their climax.

Harry came first, screaming out Draco's name, comeing all over Draco's hand. At the feeling of Harry's seed, Draco came too, slamming himself inside Harry and staying there as every last drop of cum came out of his cock.

They both dropped to the table, exhausted, Draco licking up Harry's cum from his hand. He then captured Harry's lips in a sweet kiss, feeling the swelling of his past kisses. Dropping his mouth to Harry's neck, Draco sucked on the flesh, tasting the salty tang of Harry's sweat.

Harry was so tired, but rolled onto his back underneath Draco. "We should do that more often," he said, smirking slightly, in a way that he had picked up from Draco.

"Definitely," said Draco, nodding. "Want another massage later this week?" Harry could only nod before Draco took his lips once more.

Alright. Well, there's my second slash fic. Hope you all enjoyed it. I would really appreciate it if you would review this please. Don't be one of those hit-n-runners! Give your advice to the poor! Do it!

Thanks!

Love,

Stuffy the Author


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